


Sam by any other name

by violent_woman66



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violent_woman66/pseuds/violent_woman66
Summary: Dad stopped loving him. How Sam's life might have changed if John learnt the truth a little sooner. One shot, no real purpose or conflict. just a ramble.
Kudos: 8





	Sam by any other name

I do not own nor in any way make any profit of Supernatural or its affiliated characters. 

The first few years Dean was told to protect his baby brother no matter what. And so, he had, he taught Sam how to walk, talk and tie his shoelaces. Somewhere around Sam’s fifth birthday John had come back from a hunt and instead of hugging Sam straight away John sent him a harsh glare and went to Dean for his status report. After that John never touched Sam with a kind hand again, at training John would praise Dean and offer him support and encouragement but when Sam tried and failed (mostly due to his smaller size) John would glare and offer harsh words to the tune of “Just what I would expect from you.” It was only after Sam broke some ribs during a climbing accident that John called it enough and started leaving Sam at the motel or in the car to sit quietly reading if they were between towns.

By the time Sam had turned ten John and Dean had started just dumping him in back water motels to fend for himself while they went on hunts but when the three of them were all stuck in the same place Sam was expected to cook, clean and generally shut his mouth. If he ever thought to complain, voice his objections or heaven forbid ask for anything John made sure to shut his whining with a quick back hand or fist to the gut, and at first Dean had objected to this rough treatment but a look from their father with a promise of his own silencing back hand had stopped any words of protest ever leaving Deans lips.  
After that it didn’t take long for Johns toxic view of his youngest child to take root in the mind of an ever eager to please Dean Winchester. Meaning that even when the two where left alone together Sam continued to cook and clean, he wasn’t allowed to eat with Dean and if they were enrolled at a school Sam was to go straight back to the room after the final bell, any semblance of freedom was quashed by sharp eyed glares and harsh words of warning to Sam if he dared to dally on his way back to the motel from school, despite that any time Dean was left behind with Sam he seemed to make it his mission to spend as little time with him in their temporary home as he could. If for some reason Sam got in trouble at school or needed his Father to attend a meeting Sam would hire a homeless person to attend and claim to be his parent, this had always worked as no-one at the school had ever met his father and Sam always made sure that whomever he hired was clean and dressed in nice clothes that he had stolen from a thrift store. In addition to the long hours studying lore Sam was forced to become very quick with his hands in order to feed himself as John and Dean often “forgot” to leave any food or money when they left him once again all along in a strange new town.   
Of course, the only time Sam was allowed to help out on a hunt was when bait was needed to lure out a particularly hesitant monster. Sam also was to research any and all of these creatures that lurked in the night, this meant that his schoolwork often took a back burner. As a result of this Sam could tell anyone who cared to ask how he got every scar and everything about the monster that had given it to him. All of course except his own blood kin, as he had still to figure out why they so hated him. But he couldn’t tell you what order the Presidents came in or how a Bill passed before the house of representatives. 

Then everything changed again when Sam was a few month shy of thirteen and he was made to change for sports class with the rest of the boys. It was then that his teacher noticed the bruises left over from his father’s bursts of anger and the scars from tooth, claws and shattered glass and instead of passing them off as “Boys will be boys” like so many others had, the teacher called Child protective services and Sam was taken from the school. Dean was forced to call his father and tell him what had happen, with that John dropped everything and sped back into town making only one stop on the way. That stop was to an old friend that was particularly good at faking official documents. That was how it was that Sam was taken into in the middle of the night from the emergency foster home and with a couple of well-placed reports pushed through the system by a fake badge or a stake of fifty dollar bills, Samuel William Winchester was declared dead by misadventure, heck the reports even included photos of a small malnourished body covered in blood at the bottom of the towns water tank (thanks to some dead man’s blood and a light tranq to keep Sam obedient).   
This new development meant no more Motels, no more school and no more going out where he might be seen. Sam had become a prisoner of his own exaggerated death. At first his physical prison was a series of abandoned or condemned houses and disused dusty buildings, in fear of another beating Sam followed his fathers’ rules and stayed inside out of sight at all times. This lasted for months with Sam seeing no-one other than his father and brother, too afraid to even look out the window at the people passing by incase his father saw, or heaven forbid they saw him. It was only after Sam was forced to go out or risk starving to death because John had once again not left enough supplies to last more than a couple of days, that John had to make a permanent solution for Sam, without actually taking him everywhere. So that was how Sam came to live in an old abandoned house away from anything deep in the woods. If only John hadn’t caught him sneaking back in to the damp and moldy colonial house.

Over the first few months of living there, Sam with nothing to do but pace and wait for John or Dean to stop in to bring supplies or get their injuries patched up, was able to re-wire the house (a skill he learnt from a pilfered library book) and switch the old jenny out for a more reliable solar panels that he had also pilfered from the nearby town (this being no easy fete for a single boy on foot). After the power problems were fixed Sam set to work diverting water from the nearby river to the house so that he had hot and cold running water. When not working to fix the house up Sam tended to the small vegetable patch that he had hidden just with in the tree line ensuring that if John or Dean forgot him again, he would not starve and as it turned out Sam had a real talent for gardening.   
At fifteen and just shy of desperate for company a hunter by the name of Rufus Turner stumbled upon Sam’s home when he was brought to town by a poltergeist that was terrorizing a local pet shelter of all things. Rufus stayed a couple of days after the hunt had finished to teach the boy how to snare and butcher rabbits ensuring Sam had a decent supply of meat to add to his veggie’s. After Rufus left hunters seemed to drift to the house from time to time saying an old friend had sent them and so it was that Sam learnt everything from hunting deer to shape shifters as well as how to track and research the paranormal. Every hunter that came by taught Sam something new, from algebra to devil traps, they would even leave a book or two about the paranormal or a new hunter skill, even helped him upgrade the house a bit more, each hunter being form a different walk of life before being pulled into the life that would eventually claim them in death, they all had something different to offer Sam as he fed them from his growing veggie patch or treated their wounds while helping them find the answers needed for their hunts, so it was that Sam learned all manner of useful and trivial things, even under an assumed name earned his GED (the same one the house was now registered under), thanks to a teacher that had witnessed a demon slaughter half his freshman class. With the help from these strangers come friends, come patch work family of hunters, Sam had acquired not only a comfortable home but also one of the largest collections of knowledge in the hunter community and skills that surpassed many of the hunters that checked in with Sam. 

When John happened to check in on Sam he only ever stayed for a day or two. Long enough to, in his mind, put the little demon brat in his place and have any injuries of the job tended to. Sam still in the dark of why his father was so cold towards him never once mentioned the hunters that came by for help, nor did he tell John of the phones he had stashed in his room that hunters called in search off help and information, knowing that if John ever become aware of them the resulting beating would be severe if not fatal. Unfortunately, as fate is a terrible mistress Sam was halfway through stitching a rather large gash on a hunters back when not only John, but Dean as well pulled up at the house, seeing the unknown car parked in the drive caused both to sneak into the house guns drawn.   
Still working on the hunter’s back Sam spoke just loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room “You have a choice, put down the guns and wait until I’m done or take a bullet right now. I will worry about pulling it out later.”   
John being the pig headed man that he is wasn’t one to back down, “Who the hell do you think you are threatening me boy? And who the hell is this?” John demanded gun still leveled between his youngest son and the bare chested hunter.  
Sam with his newly instilled confidence that came from doing something that he knew well ignored the two guns trained on him and his guest “Richie you head upstairs to the guest room and rest, I will deal with this and check your stitches tomorrow.” Sam waited for Rich to don his shirt and amble painfully to the stairs before turning his gaze to his father again. “Put the guns away. This is my house not yours.” Sam snarled to the two men he barley recognized as family.   
“How dare you speak to me like...” John started to shout as Dean shifted his weight form one foot to the other, unease creeping up his spine.   
“How dare I? this is my house, you lost any rights here every time you beat me, every time I was left alone, scared and hungry, I am NOT your son, and this is MY home and if you don’t like it you can get out.” The calm tone in which Sam interrupted sent shivers of fear down Johns spine. “Run back to your bottle John, run back to your hunt. You, unlike every other hunter are not welcome here and from everything I have heard you are not welcome anywhere, too many bridges burned hey John?” Sam pulled his eyes from his father to look at his brother Dean for the first time in a long time “You Dean have not gone too far, we could still repair the gap between us, but know if you choose him you can never come here again, we can never be brothers.” Sam almost pleaded with Dean not wanting to lose the last chance of connection with his true blood family, his last connection to the mother he never knew.  
“Dad told me you know. You are the reason my Mum is dead. A demon wanted you and killed her to get to you. It’s all your fault.” Sam felt all the love he had left for his brother fall away as the venom dripped from Deans tongue. “We were never brothers and never will be, I’m not even sure you are human.”  
“You both need to leave then.” Sam stated as a matter of fact taking the sawn off shot gun from the small coffee table by his knee “And don’t be coming back.” Sam gestured to the door with the barrel of his gun.   
“You little fuc….” John started spitting as he launched himself at Sam, only to be blasted back by a chest full of rock salt.   
Sam re-cocked the gun never once taking his eyes of the man that was once his father “The next one is a little more fatal, John” a quick flick of his eye the only sign Sam decided to speak to the only other person in the room “Dean, you should know I never blamed you, but you need to leave and I suggest you get away from him, he has a track record of getting people killed, just ask a woman by the name of Ellen Harvelle, she runs a hunters bar”  
The very mention of that name resulted in John once again charging forward with an angry snarl twisting his lips. Sam simply stepped to the side and brought the butt of his gun down on the nape of Johns neck rendering him silent. “Take him Dean, I will have his car dropped off in town tomorrow.” Gun still leveled Sam watched as his brother dragged the unconscious weight of his father out of the room and Sam’s life.   
“Just so you know, you will always be a freak!” Dean shouted as he stumbled through the door, his hands clasped under his father’s arms.  
And so, it was that Sam never saw John again. Dean had stopped by only once to tell Sam that their farther was missing, Sam only responded by leveling his gun at Dean and reminding him that Sam Winchester was dead and as much he didn’t care one iota what happened to either Dean or his farther. It wasn’t until a few years later that Sam learnt his fathers’ fate from one Bobbie Singer, who only mentioned it in passing not knowing of the family ties previously held. Turns out that John was killed by Dean who was at the time possessed by a demon by the name of Azazel.   
And when Azazel came knocking trying to recruit Sam for his army, Sam put a bullet between his sickly yellow eyes using an old colt that had been left to him after the death of hunter that had found some semblance of retirement before his past had caught up with him and ripped his throat out.


End file.
